My Lords of Strogue Volume Ii Part 6

Biting his lip he turned away, to be received in the exuberant embrace of his dear Ca.s.sidy, behind whom came trooping Tom Emmett and Robert; Russell, Bond, and others hanging back waveringly, as if not quite certain how they should act. Was he not an aristocrat? Had not Miss Wolfe warned them? Was it not too likely that he should be playing a double game? How difficult a task it was to separate friends from foes!

Terence, despite his cousin's ill-humour, was in great spirits.

Eagerly he conducted his friends into a remote boudoir. He was dying to tell his news, and to hear theirs. So earnest was he, so strong a ring of truth was in his voice, that the delegates could doubt no more. Bond, Russell, gathered round as anxiously as the two Emmetts.

Ca.s.sidy's broad visage was alight with grins. He slapped his thigh in huge delight as Terence unfolded his budget. He had been treated with every civility at Brest. Hoche, his fears removed, was taking up the matter with all his might; his rival, young Buonaparte, was getting on too well. Both these generals were straining every nerve to outstrip each other. The Irish envoy had seen Tone in his uniform as general de brigade. He was to sail in the expedition aboard the _Indomptable_.

The force was of fifteen sail of the line, ten frigates, and seven transports. There was some diversity of opinion as to the plan to be pursued, for Admiral Gardner was cruising in the Channel with the English fleet, and, crowded as the ships were with troops, it was well to avoid a sea-fight if possible. The message to the Irish Directory was that their allies might be expected at any moment--_where_, it was impossible to say--for much would depend on events, and it was taken for granted that on the first signal the country would rise _en ma.s.se_. Terence, indeed, was surprised that nothing had yet taken place, for when he left Brest on the 10th all was ready, the men embarked--thirteen thousand strong--the etat-major prepared to follow.

He, the envoy, had been compelled to travel through England, which had delayed his coming; but he had ridden as fast as possible, lest all should be over before he could arrive.

'Started at last!' exclaimed Robert, full of glee.

'Ready to start twenty days ago!' e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Emmett, with a long face.

'Please G.o.d no evil has befallen them.'

The conspirators looked one at the other uneasily. What if that English fleet should have intercepted the convoy?

'They've bin weather-bound,' Ca.s.sidy declared with confidence. 'Bad news flies quickly. If the English had done anything, we should have had them crowing over us long since.'

'There were fogs in the Channel, I remarked that,' a.s.sented Terence.

'I went down into the great cabin of the _Indomptable_ on the evening of the tenth, to wish the officers G.o.d-speed. It was an exhilarating spectacle. The ceiling was a ma.s.s of firelocks; the candlesticks were bayonets, stuck in the table. A fine band was playing the "Ma.r.s.eillaise;" the officers, in full fig, were lounging about, some playing cards, some singing to the time--all full of hope. As my boat rowed me away, the effect of the grand hymn on the water, diminishing as the black hull seemed flitting into haze, was delicious. It is surprising, though, that they delay so long.'

The colloquy was interrupted by a general move to supper. It might create suspicion if they were to stand too long aloof from the company.

Arthur Wolfe plucked Curran by the sleeve, as he met him, in mid-stream, and whispered in his ear:

'I saw you talking to Lord Clare. Ye've not been insulting him, I trust? Take the advice of your friend. Do not make an enemy of him, for he'll have it all his own way by-and-by, depend on it.'

Curran shrugged his shoulders with contempt.

'Intelligence of some sort has arrived,' continued the attorney-general, gravely. 'Lord Camden was called away half an hour ago, and sent presently for Clare, who was rubbing his hands and smiling when the two came back again. I overheard him say, "With your permission, I'll announce it after supper. It will make a good impression."'

'It's something cruel, then,' returned Curran, sadly. 'It's always something cruel when the chancellor looks pleased!'

Supper was served in the picture-gallery which adjoins St. Patrick's hall, and it was a splendid _coup d'[oe]il_ that met your eye as you crossed the threshold. Two long lines of snowy cloth, illuminated by myriads of wax-lights in ma.s.sive silver candelabra, vanished in perspective like the iridescent path cloven by a ship at night-time.

Great piles of fruit and flowers gave relief to the scarlet and gold ma.s.ses of the uniforms, broken as they were, in regular sequence, by the plumes and dresses of the ladies; whilst the general richness of effect was still further heightened by dark rows of feathery palms and large-leaved shrubs, which served as a sombre background.

At the centre of the chief table, the Countess of Glandore occupied the place of honour beside the Viceroy, faced by Lord Clare, with Lady Camden on his right and Doreen on his left. On glancing down the table, my lady perceived with rage that the chances of the rush had placed Sara upon one side of Terence, while--(was this accident, or fate?)--the other was occupied by Madam Gillin! The young man seemed highly amused by his elderly companion, who--two monstrous ostrich feathers nodding over her the while--was vowing by her soul and body that she couldn't touch another skelp of jelly--no, not the tiniest wee bit--unless somebody fed her with a spoon; which Terence, entering into the humour of the situation, proceeded immediately to do, amid the laughter and applause of all his neighbours.

The human animal being apt to run after bellwethers, it may be looked upon as natural that this strange conduct of a respectable matron was speedily imitated by the girls. They vowed one and all, at this end of the table, with a unanimity which looked like an epidemic, that they must be fed with spoons; and fed they were accordingly, by amorous sons of Mars, whose blood bubbled to their brains at close contact with perfumed curls; whilst their cheeks glowed, fanned by fragrant breath, and their eyes were dazzled by snowy busts thrown back, their nerves thrilled by fairy little kicks from elfin feet and pinches from pink fingers, in the course of this bringing-up by hand of grown-up bantlings.

Claret and champagne a.s.sisting, it must be admitted that at this end of the table the hilarity was more joyous than genteel. My lady looked thitherward several times with frowns, for in her day men, when they worshipped Bacchus, did so when the ladies had withdrawn. Then it mattered little what jests were bandied, what coa.r.s.e freedom used. But it shocked her that a sabbat such as this should take place in the presence of his Majesty's representatives, of high-born dames and dowagers, of young girls who were presumably innocent, and that her own son should set it going.

'That boy is a thorn in my side,' she reflected, with grim resentment.

'He has never brought me anything but trouble from the moment of his birth till now. I promised to reason with him, and he has declined even to hear me speak. On his own shoulders then let the burthen of the future lie.'

The Countess of Glandore, stung by the humiliation which her pride was just then suffering, irritated as it was by the canker which had poisoned the maternal milk in her breast so long, almost wished, in a throb of wickedness, that her second-born might entangle himself irrevocably. Her evil monitor whispered that if he were to die or disappear, the numbing dread which had sallowed her life would be buried in his grave. So are we impelled by little puffs of wind, when we have once started in the ice-sleigh down the slippery incline hewn out like a steel ribbon, our vision blinded by snow swirls and the rapidity of transit, till with amaze we find ourselves at the bottom with a jerk, not knowing what urged us on the road.

When Madam Gillin had convinced her beau that she could take no more jelly without choking, he desisted from his well-meant efforts, and the two began to converse on a pleasantly easy-going basis.

'Indeed, ye're a strapping chap,' she declared, with a tap of her fan and a great laugh, 'although ye're a bad neighbour. I like your face, and I'm a quare body. Would ye make me a promise now, just to plase a fanciful old woman? I wouldn't have an oath, there are too many, about, worse luck! Ye would? Promise me, then, on your honour, that if ever ye get into a sc.r.a.pe, in which I can be of service, ye'll come to the Little House? Now didn't I say I was a quare woman, and you almost a stranger? You're a lad of your word, I know.' Then she added, exchanging her tone of banter for a serious whisper: 'Maybe I know more of ye than ye think, with the lock of hair cut away behind. Ye've taken up the cause. Bedad, I can't blame ye, though I'm sad for your sake. Mum's the word. We're strangers till you need me. Hush! They are watching us.'

Terence had scarcely recovered his surprise at the eccentric conduct of Madam Gillin, before there was a clattering of gla.s.ses and a hum, then a dead stillness of respect, for the Viceroy had risen on his legs.

He mumbled slavish plat.i.tudes anent the virtues of his gracious Majesty. No doubt everybody present was in the habit of reading the _Gazette_. Of course they were, for they loved their sovereign, and were thankful for the privilege of watching, with respectful awe, his daily movements. He was at Weymouth, indulging in warm baths; so was her Majesty Queen Charlotte, and so likewise were their august children the Princesses. For his part, he, the unworthy representative of so perfect and enlightened and generally admirable a monarch, could scarcely peruse without tears the simple bulletin of that household.

'This morning the Princess Amelia walked, with her gouvernante, on the sands, to study the wonders of the sh.o.r.e. The Princesses Augusta and Elizabeth rode for two hours, on their Shetland ponies, whilst their Majesties were enjoying a bath!' Indeed it was a high privilege for a nation to have daily before its eyes so pure and n.o.ble an example of unsullied virtue, of innocent enjoyment and sterling worth. With heartfelt thankfulness for the blessing bestowed by Providence, he would propose the health of 'The King and Queen--G.o.d bless them!'

upstanding, with all the honours.

All this time claret and champagne had been freely going the rounds.

The roses had deepened from pink to damask on the cheeks of the Dublin fair--the young officers of yeomanry and militia had reached the stage of aberration which follows thirst and precedes coma. Standing on their chairs the better to let loose their bursting loyalty, they drank the health of their Majesties; whilst others--amongst whom some of our friends were--raised their gla.s.ses with a flourish, muttering as they did so, 'Remember Orr!'

Terence, with his arm round Sara, who shrank at the uproarious din, took her gla.s.s, and, pressing to his lips the place where hers had touched it, whispered in her ear--then in that of Madam Gillin: 'To the diffusion of Light--may it break upon us soon!'

Then--silence being with difficulty restored--Lord Clare stood up to speak.

He surveyed the a.s.semblage for a moment, casting his eagle eye on one and then another as though to consider how best to touch the sympathies and flick the raws of so incongruous a gathering. The attention of all was riveted on his smiling face, for a murmur had flitted along the lines like a breeze over corn, which was an echo of Arthur Wolfe's surmise. There was something behind--some intelligence of moment--the divulging of which the all-powerful lord chancellor had expressly reserved to himself.

'It is nearly twelve o'clock,' he said at length, in the rasping voice which set so many people's teeth on edge. 'We have gone through a year of trouble and anxiety, and are on the eve of a new one, which, I trust, will prove vastly different from that which is now dying. I will venture to propose a toast to you--gentlemen and ladies all--which may at first seem a riddle--but which you will, I know, all join with me in drinking, trusting to a satisfactory solution. I beg you to drink to the Wind.'

The chancellor paused--one white hand upon his hip--to mark the effect of his exordium. Young' officers banged applause upon the table, not knowing why they did it, save that the leading spirit who guided them seemed to expect the silence to be broken. Arthur Wolfe made bread-pills with feverish absentness. Curran placed his hand behind his ear, and leaned forward with impatient anxiety. Doreen sat, her hands folded in her lap, staring before her into s.p.a.ce.

'I give you the Wind,' the chancellor went on, with the clear coldness of a glacier rivulet 'because those who deplore the evil which has gathered of late like a mist over our unhappy country, will have to thank the wind for driving it away, and leaving a clear atmosphere.

Alas! I cannot say that the horizon is as yet quite clear--small cloudlets float still upon the waters--but those heavy banks of rain, which we have all feared would drench us presently, are in mercy put to rout, and it is the wind that we have to thank for it. "The French are on the sea, said the Shan van Vocht." So runs the ditty which was in all careless mouths to-day. Well! I am authorised by his excellency's goodness to tell you that the French _are_ on the sea--but flying back to their native ports by this time in every phase of discomfiture and distress.'

A pause--while the doves shivered. Girls drew their feet into safety under chairs, and pushed away--shuddering--the importunate hands of British aides-de-camp.

'Some among you,' innocently insinuated the speaker, 'may possibly be aware that the French have been preparing for some time past to make a descent upon our coasts, and I tell you now (danger being over) that supposing they could have evaded the English fleet and landed in force, much difficulty might have resulted. But thanks to the wind which has blown persistently for days, although they did escape for awhile the vigilance of the English admiral, yet are they, by heaven's mercy, routed and put to flight, after beating about in the offing for well-nigh a week.'

Again the speaker paused to mark the success of his efforts. Curran, like Arthur, was rolling pills of bread upon the tablecloth; the young ladies, so demonstratively lively but a few moments before, were glancing at each other with blanched lips. Mrs. Gillin was sitting bolt upright, her trembling fingers making sad havoc with her fan. A low hum of dismay pa.s.sed along the tables. The sound seemed to tickle my Lord Clare's ear. He waited for a moment or so, and fixed his eye upon Miss Wolfe as he took up the thread of his discourse.

'Yes!' he said with exultation. 'The French fleet has come and gone!

The menacing danger has faded harmlessly away. It started 15,000 strong. Tempests arose, such as are always at the beck of Britain when invasion threatens her rights, which scattered the Gallic fleet.

Hoche--who was to do such wonders--was aboard the admiral's ship; General Wolfe Tone (who by-the-bye will certainly, though he dubs himself general, bring himself to the gallows) was aboard another. The flower of Republican valour was packed like herrings between decks.

Where now are those gawdy cohorts? Making for Brest as fast as fear can drive them. I pray that the King's admiral may intercept them in their flight!'

The chancellor's little oration came upon the party like a thunderclap. There was no more flirting now, or dallying with taper waists. Doreen, at mention of her hero, woke with a start from reverie. Her lids quivered for a second, and shrank as though her eyes were blinded by the lightning. She cast one wild glance of reproach at her cousin--then was herself again--a trifle paler maybe; but otherwise the staid, impa.s.sive maiden whose grave austerity so awed the turbulent squireens. The Emmetts and their friends seemed stunned.

Their hopes were blasted now, as it appeared, for ever. It would have been better not to have waited for tardy a.s.sistance so feebly administered. At times of deep anguish, thoughts whirl through the brain in vivid flashes. Tom Emmett saw at once that the executive had won a double victory. The bugbear which had threatened them was dissolved and gone. The members of the Irish Directory, who had been for acting at once, would turn now upon their comrades with a plausible appearance of justice, and revile them for having allowed precious moments to slip by. The breach in the national bulwark, which had been showing in dangerous fissures, would be rent into chasms now--the edifice, which had taken such anxious pains to rear, would crumble into dust. It was the oppressor's hour of triumph. Ireland's fate was sealed. Such were the gloomy thoughts which crushed the leader of the patriots. With the majority of the party present it was far otherwise. A mighty huzza shook the rafters--another and another--like waves rolling in to sh.o.r.e. The officers of yeomanry and militia saw before them a bright perspective of lawlessness, wherein the Helots would be handed over to their mercy--to smite, and revile, and torture, and kill--wherein their daughters would become a legitimate prey, their flocks and herds a booty, their household G.o.ds an appanage. Now was the time come when it behoved them to display their zeal. So thought the squireens, so also thought the lords their leaders, who hoped that they might earn extra pensions by accepting the bait that was held out. So the glittering a.s.semblage rose with one accord--on the chairs--even on the tables, and the luckless professors of a different creed were compelled to follow suit, as small stones are dashed along at the mercy of the breakers. With shouts, with frantic wavings of swords and handkerchiefs--supporting each other as they swayed in their excitement---the lord-lieutenant's guests drank to the wind, and, at the same time, to the new year, which was thus heralded to the Irish capital in noise and drunken tumult.

The chancellor had turned up a trump and played it skilfully. With smiles on their faces and despair in their hearts, the Dublin belles returned to the dancing-hall. But the innate ruffianism of the yeomanry officers had been let loose by wine and frenzy. The girls fled to their brothers for protection--their excellencies retired to their own apartments m a hurry. A youth with down upon his lip seized the green scarf of pretty Sara, and wrenched it from her neck with a brutal jest.

'What do you hide?' he gibed. 'That lily bosom may not be hidden by the rebel colour--off with it!'

The youth sprawled p.r.o.ne at once, felled by a blow between the eyes.

Sara shrieked, and clung to a protecting arm. It was Terence who had knocked him down, and who was soon the centre of a _melee_. Madam Gillin's feathers were seen tossing in the throng, while her voice added to the hubbub.

'In the days of Brian Buroo,' she wailed, 'bejewelled leedies might walk alone from one end to t'other of Innisfail! Now, faith, we can't be safe even in Pat's hall!'

My lady and Doreen made the best of their way to their coach. The soldiers stood in motionless rows upon the stairs, as though there was no brawl above. Their captain had hurried to the chancellor to ask if he should clear the hall.

'No!' was the laughing reply. 'Their blood is hot--a little phlebotomy won't hurt them. Let be! let be! It's not a good omen for the year though, that it should dawn in bloodshed!'